


Aftermath

by JustAndrea



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Advice, Brotherly Love, Crying, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I decided to include some fun/sweet brother interactions too, IDK how it happened but I'm glad it did, Post s2 finale, Splinter tries his best to be a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAndrea/pseuds/JustAndrea
Summary: Donnie hits a breaking point, and Splinter tries to help his son through it. Neither one of them are great when it comes to things like this, but maybe that just means that they're the best at understanding each other.EDIT: Bonus Chapter posted on 2/19/21. Donnie's still working through his emotions, frustrated that he's unable to focus on new projects. Thankfully his bros (and a certain surfer-bro AI) are there to offer some advice and plenty of support.
Relationships: Donatello & Leonardo & Michelangelo & Raphael (TMNT), Donatello & S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., Donatello & Splinter (TMNT)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as some vent writing and turned into something I ended up really liking, so I made it into an actual fic (plus you all know that I just love exploring Splinter as a character and as a father, heh). Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

It was easy for Splinter to forget sometimes that despite how independent his children were, they were still - in fact - children.

There were times where they knew just what to do, and there were times that they were completely lost. Most of the time they'd leave home with a smile, always so confident in what they were doing. Sometimes they would falter, as all children sometimes did. But between the four of them, each of his sons always had someone (or multiple someones) to lean on at a moment’s notice.

It was one of the things he admired so much about his boys - how they were always there for each other and how they encouraged and protected each other, despite the occasional argument or brief bout of competition. It made Splinter so proud… Though, if he was honest, it was a bittersweet sort of proud, knowing that they as brothers did the job he was supposed to do as a father better than he ever could.

Splinter knew he wasn't always the best with words, and sometimes forgot to say things that were already implied well enough but, for boys who seemed to thrive on positive reinforcement and statements of pride and assurance, he could acknowledge that they weren’t always said enough. He could certainly be stern, and had a bit of a temper too when frustrated… 

Still, he knew how to give good hugs and make jokes and even inspire them, even if it was mostly through his old movies. He knew how to set rules and provide for his boys during the leanest of times. He taught them how to fight in more ways than one, and managed to give them SOME boundaries while also letting them be themselves, giving them plenty of space to grow and learn on their own time.

In many ways, Splinter figured that he had done pretty well as a father. But in other ways, like always being open and honest with his sons, or realizing when to actually _be_ open and use his words? Doing that was a bit more of a struggle… And if the past few days were any indication, it unfortunately ran in the family.

 _“Like you could_ **_ever_ ** _understand!”_

Splinter sighed at the memory, his hand still gently stirring as his rat nose twitched at the pleasant scent. Once everything was ready, he grabbed the dishes and the tray they'd often use for birthday breakfasts in bed and headed down the hall. His ears were still folded down low as the harsh words echoed again in his head, but his feet didn’t stop walking.

The spot in front of the purple curtain-covered doorway was empty, but Splinter knew that was only because he had told the rest of his family to give Donnie some space. Of course, that hadn't stopped April from texting or one of the boys from checking in, but considering how much time had passed, he couldn't exactly blame them.

Moving the curtain aside with his tail, Splinter stepped into the dark bedroom. Although Donnie’s lab was filled to the brim with gadgets and tech and lights and things (things that had been buried under rubble just a few short weeks ago… things that hadn’t been used or even looked at since that week’s incident) his actual bedroom was fairly plain, save for a few personal items here or there. Up in the tanning bed turned loft, Donnie was laying with his shell to the doorway.

“Purple?” Splinter gently called out, unsure if his son was actually awake. There was no response, but he didn't expect there to be one. Holding back another sigh, he set the tray down near Donnie’s alarm clock and used the desk chair to hop up onto the edge of his son’s bed.

It was strange not seeing his son with his mask, goggles or battle-shell. He looked so much younger without them… Gently petting the turtle’s head, Splinter repeated, “Purple?”

Donnie didn't open his eyes, but he did answer. “I'm awake…”

“Ah… I uh- I was not sure if you were hungry, but I brought you some lunch.” When Donnie didn't move to sit up, Splinter added, “You do not have to eat all of it, but I would like you to eat something... okay Donatello?”

Donnie grumbled, knowing by now that when his father dropped a full name, he likely wouldn't take a “No thanks” or “Maybe later” for an answer. Besides, the last time he ate was midnight. Or… was it two nights ago? Either way, he knew his body was hungry even if he himself didn’t have an appetite, and even someone as stubborn as him couldn’t ignore hunger forever. So, he forced himself to sit up.

Splinter smiled, patting his son’s shoulder as he used his tail to bring the tray up. Donnie’s eyes only widened slightly at its contents before softening. Homemade soup and sliced apples… Both were staples of his childhood, even if the latter had been dependent on how often they could find fresh produce.

Mumbling a thanks, Donnie grabbed the soup first, since he still _refused_ to eat soup that had cooled enough to get that gross soup skin, ugh… So, after blowing on it a couple times, he brought the bowl to his mouth and let the warm broth pour into his mouth.

Unlike his youngest brother who liked to experiment with bold flavors and interesting combinations, their father was always simple when it came to recipes. A bit of spice, a dash of salt, and some decent veggies and noodles was all Splinter ever really needed to make his signature dish.

But there was comfort to be found in simplicity, Donnie supposed… A lot of comfort, actually. Along with being mildly flavorful, it also warmed him up almost instantly, right down to his core. He took a couple more long sips before finally needing to put the bowl down.

“Oh, Donnie…” he heard his father say, and for a moment he was confused by his tone. But then Donnie noticed the tears on his cheeks, and how they refused to stop.

“It’s uh,” Donnie tried to say, his voice cracking a bit, “I-It’s really good soup, Pop.” A couple more tears fell into the bowl, and they just _wouldn’t stop_.

Gently, Splinter took the bowl out of his son’s hands before bringing Donnie in for a firm hug. Donnie let out a small sob, and hugged his dad back as tight as he could as his tears dampened the rat’s robe. Not that his father minded, of course. He just kept shushing him and patting his back.

Donnie had always been a special case when it came to hugs. While the rest of his sons were as cuddly as can be, Donnie was more conditional about physical affection. Sometimes he’d be perfectly fine with it, even initiating it. Sometimes he’d simply stiffen up but still allow his family to briefly hug him, or return the gesture by using his metal arms instead of his real ones - and sometimes he wouldn’t want hugs at all, and his siblings would do their best to respect that.

But when Donnie wanted hugs, he REALLY wanted hugs - and Splinter was more than happy to give them to him.

It took several minutes for Donnie to stop crying, but he didn’t exactly feel better afterwards. If anything, he looked worse - embarrassed about breaking down, overwhelmed by the affection, and no doubt still thinking about his main reason for holding up in his room. Ah yes, emotions were sometimes a struggle for both of them too, but Splinter didn’t let a little thing like that deter him.

It wasn’t easy, given how small Donnie’s tube-bed was, but Splinter managed to make it work, squeezing in and staying by his son’s side. Seeing what he was trying to do, Donnie actually allowed him to stay, scooting over a bit before resting his head on top of his father’s. He’d occasionally sniffle or swallow, but he didn’t say anything else just yet.

Splinter was fine with that, thankfully. He simply handed Donnie back his bowl along with a spoon, and continued gently petting his shell. It was another gesture that Donnie rarely allowed but always appreciated when he did want it. And so, he leaned into his father’s touch as he continued eating, grateful that Splinter was only pushing food for right now.

It seemed to take another several minutes, possibly even more, but patience was something every parent learned, and Splinter was no different. Thankfully, once Donnie had finished his soup and had moved onto dessert, he seemed at least somewhat ready to talk.

“I… I’m sorry for yelling at you, and… I know you were trying to help,” Donnie said quietly, refusing to look up from his hands, “You were all just trying to help… and I was being a total jerk.”

“I appreciate the apology, my son, but I know you did not mean anything by snapping,” Splinter replied, “You were frustrated and upset… I can certainly understand having anger in a- in a moment like that.”

Donnie grimaced, his eyes filling with tears again. When Splinter tried to bring him in for another hug, Donnie shook him off. So, Splinter kept his hands to himself and waited. “It’s… I’m being dumb.”

“No, no… You suffered a loss. You are allowed to be sad, no matter what that loss is. And… I know how much you cared about it, and how rough it has been for you-”

The purple turtle gave a bitter laugh. “We’ve _all_ had it rough, Dad. You nearly got your soul sucked out a couple months ago, and we got our house destroyed. I’m not special.”

“Every loss has meaning, Donatello, and it is not a competition as to who has it worse than who,” Splinter firmly assured him.

“But, I just- I’m-” Donnie squeezed his fists, only loosening his grip when he felt his father’s hands over his. “...I feel like I’m being selfish, and stupid but… but I just can’t help it!” 

Still, despite his anger and sadness and frustration… Donnie knew that if he had to make the choice again, he wouldn’t change his answer. Even with it being between his ‘baby’ and his actual flesh and blood family, he would always - ALWAYS choose family. Even if it meant having to watch his Turtle Tank get blown up a thousand times over.

But while he didn’t necessarily regret his choice, that didn’t mean that it didn’t still hurt…

_Between all the craziness between Big Mama and the Shredder, it had been easy to forget about a certain tech-focused gang’s promise of revenge. Honestly, Donnie could have slapped himself for forgetting, given that he and April were the only one on the team to really take the Purple Dragons seriously._

_Of course, with most of Donnie’s tech being either completely destroyed in the Shredder’s rampage or simply out of commission, there was only one thing the Dragons could attack that would make a big impact on Donnie - that could make him hurt._

_And, unlike Stockboy who simply used his own tech to take control of the tank, Kendra and her goons had actually managed to hack into the tank itself, nearly running Donnie over as they remotely drove it out of the garage. Talk about adding insult to almost-injury._

_It was a hassle and a half trying to even catch up to the Turtle Tank, let alone trying to stop the thing. Kendra had already told him that they’d only return it for a ridiculously high price paid in cash only, which he had naturally refused. Unfortunately, the Dragons had made sure he had no other options._

_They blocked all of Donnie’s contingency plans, even the shopping cart protocol, and he and his siblings’ mystic weapons could only slow it down. Alas, harsh reality - he had just made the tank too strong, to the point where only his and Raph’s aura-attacks or April’s bat could only leave shallow dents. It was moving too fast for Leo to try and teleport inside it or for Mikey to wrap his ‘chucks around it. Same with Draxum’s vines, and as skilled as they were, there was no way Splinter or CJ could stop it either._

_But Donnie still had one last card to play, one that not even the Dragons could stop. To say he was reluctant was an understatement, but once his tank started directly trying to run down his family, that reluctance was easily overshadowed by a spark of determination and protectiveness._

_Using the mind meld technique to prevent any listening ears from hearing their plan, the Mad Dogz went all out just to get Donnie into the tank - which just barely managed to work, thanks to a bit of extra luck. Once inside, Donnie started the self-destruct sequence - something that couldn’t be stopped and any attempt to do so would take much longer than the allotted 60 seconds - and then got the hell out of there._

_In exactly 60 seconds, his Turtle Tank was absolutely destroyed, being the heart of a brilliant and fiery explosion. He had succeeded in beating his tech-rivals… and yet it took all of Donnie’s strength not to just fall to his knees as he watched flames and smoke rise. They’d have to move soon, he could already hear sirens, and yet his body felt as stiff and as heavy as stone._

_“Aw, Donnie, buddy...” April said, her hand on his shoulder._

_He felt Raph’s big arm wrap around his waist. “We’re sorry Don… But, it’ll be okay! Really, we’ve got you. It’ll be okay.”_

_Even as he lowered his head, they continued. “Yeah, and like… You’re a genius, bro!” Leo added, “So, I’m sure you can make a new one.”_

_“Yeah!” Mikey nodded encouragingly, “An even better one! One that we’ll all love just as much, okay Dee?”_

_“Heh, yeah! Yeah, that would be a fun project, right Donn-?”_

_Donnie suddenly glared at his brothers and April, backing away from them and shaking off any attempts at comforting hugs. “Don’t you all think I know that? Yeah, I’ll probably have to rebuild it. That doesn’t mean I WANT to, much less while it’s still_ **_burning!_ ** _”_

_His family winced at him, and he immediately felt guilt alongside his anger, yet some sort of stubbornness deep inside him refused to apologize. His siblings tried to say more, kept trying to fix things and make the situation okay, but he could barely hear them. Through it all, however, he managed to notice someone gently touch his arm._

_“My son… I am so sorry that this happened,” he heard his father say, “I understand that-”_

_His anger flared again as he sharply turned to look at Splinter, yanking his arm away from him. “Oh like you could_ **_ever_ ** _understand!”_

_Too infuriated to think straight and too frustrated and upset to want to be around anyone, Donnie activated his hover-shell - at least he still had that, though who knew for how long - and flew away from his family. Away from the shocked and hurt look on his dad’s face._

“...You were right, you know.”

“Huh?” Donnie said, finally looking up.

“I said that you were right. I would not truly understand your loss,” Splinter told him, “Not when it was that personal to you, and I apologize for that.” Really, even an old rat could see the obvious.

When he had first seen the Turtle Tank, Splinter only saw it as a way to relive his exciting drag racing days. It was no sports car but it would do, and as long as it eventually got home in one piece, no harm no foul, right? The second time he wanted to use it, he saw it more for its strength and ability more than it’s speed, making it perfect for a demolition derby, an event that his sons were sure to find fun eventually. After all, who didn’t like the thrill of a demolition derby and the glory that came from winning it?

Obviously, Splinter had been wrong in both incidents… Still, even if he ended up regretting his actions regarding his son’s vehicle (especially the second time), his mindset towards it hadn’t changed much. It was still very much a tool in his mind, something to be used for fights or get-aways, or even just a family vehicle to use when driving in or outside of the city.

But to his purple son, the Turtle Tank was so much more, and was just as important - just as loved - as the rest of his tech. And now it was a pile of burnt metal.

“I do not personally understand your passion for tech and machines, but I understand that it is there, and that you have a right to be upset about something you worked so hard on,” Splinter told him.

Donnie stared at him for a moment, looking almost relieved before looking away again. “It’s… It’s not just the tank. That was just… the breaking point, I guess.” Splinter patted Donnie’s hand, reminding him that he was still there to listen.

“It’s just…” He didn’t want to complain - didn’t deserve to complain but… “I know that things break. I _plan_ for things to break. It’s inevitable! It’s why I plan for maintenance and upgrades and-” Donnie faltered, his voice caught on that last word.

Splinter winced. He should have known it was more than just the tank, especially after all that had happened…

Taking a moment, Donnie let himself breathe in and out before continuing. “...First it was SHELLDON... then the rest of my lab… and then my tech-bo couldn’t even… and now the tank? Just… I know - I _know_ that things break but… But what’s the point of even inventing if I can’t even- if it’s _always_ \- ughhhh…”

Donnie still had plenty of heartache towards the loss of his most personal inventions, not to mention his lab and all the unfinished gadgets found busted within it. But he also felt like he was being petty - that ‘this whole situation’ really wasn’t worth getting upset over. 

He wasn’t a petulant, soft-hearted child. He was a _mature_ fourteen and a half year old, thank you very much. Furthermore, he was an inventor! He took action! Laughed in the face of what others had deemed scientifically impossible and made it an awesome reality! He wasn’t supposed to hide under his sheets and sulk for days, even if that felt like that was all he wanted to do…

“It could have been a lot worse, all things considered,” Donnie continued, “I still have the latest version of SHELLDON’s AI on file-'' even with the damage SHELLDON took, Donnie’s failsafe for him had managed to download the drone’s consciousness into his remaining computers, where he’d be safe and sound until Donnie finished making his 3.0 body- “and I have a weapon that’s just as effective as my tech-bo, and I know how to rebuild the Turtle Tank too, even without a moon buggy base. I know I can just rebuild, but I…”

But what? But he didn’t want to? But he was scared to? But he didn’t feel like there was a point to it?

It was then that Splinter asked, “Who says you have to rebuild?” Donnie looked up at him again, but couldn’t give him an answer. Offering him a small smile, Splinter continued.

“I know how much you love inventing, but if you are not feeling up to rebuilding just yet, then don’t. Not if it makes you more upset than happy,” he told him, “And when you do feel like inventing, do not feel like you have to invent something that must be used in battle. It can just be for fun, or for something that you use personally. We certainly appreciate what you make us, Purple-” especially when they were of the lazy, snack-grabbing variety- “but we will always care more about your well-being than your inventions.”

Donnie paused, and smiled softly. He didn’t question the honesty of this statement. He had heard something similar from April in Witch Town, something he hadn’t forgotten and still held in the back of his mind as well as close to his heart. Still, it was admittedly nice hearing it again.

“Yeah, I know… but I still like making things that are useful for the rest of the team. And I wanna keep doing it, seriously. It’s just… seeing the tank go up in flames like that, like all the work I had done fortifying it had been nothing, and… and seeing SHELLDON just-”

Donnie winced again, remembering how hard that day had been. Leo had prepared him somewhat, being apologetic all the while, but nothing could compare to actually seeing and recovering the remains of his drone from the rubble of his lab. “...It’s hard. Really, really hard…” He then gave another bitter laugh. “Two reallys…” 

“I know… I know it is hard, and I know it is something you love,” Splinter nodded, “It can be hard when… when the thing that you are passionate about can lead to pain, to the point where it can be easy to forget why you enjoyed it in the first place…”

Donnie’s eyes widened in realization as a silence fell between them. Slowly, he turned to look at his father. It wasn’t often he truly saw the age and fatigue etched in the rat-man’s face… It was sometimes as easy to forget about as the history that had caused it. But it was still there, no matter how much his dad tried to hide it from the rest of his family.

Still, Splinter met his gaze and smiled once again. “But the spark is still there, even when it seems like it has been lost. It is just a matter of perspective, you know? Finding new reasons to f- to invent. Besides, you are young. You have plenty of time to rest, just as you have plenty of time to rebuild and create.”

“...You know what, Dad? I think you have a pretty good point there,” Donnie said, his own soft smile returning. Admittedly, he wasn’t used to getting ‘fatherly advice’ as opposed to brotherly or best friend advice, but he appreciated it regardless. “Thanks.”

Splinter shrugged. “Hey, I can be wise sometimes. But, I am glad I was able to help.”

Donnie chuckled lightly. “...Even if I do end up taking a break, or focusing on more personal projects, I promise not to take too long. We still need a vehicle, after all. We can’t exactly protect the city effectively without a means of quick transport.”

While he agreed that having a super-fast and tough tank made things a lot easier, Splinter still waved it off. “We can manage without one for as long as we need to. And if we can’t, there are other ways to get a temporary car, you know. The junk yards in this city are filled with them.” After a moment, he added, “Er, not that you should steal stuff that you do not need to survive but, well, if it is just _sitting_ there abandoned-”

Donnie laughed a bit. “Well, technically Mikey and I stole the first Tank, but only because the guy we made a deal with didn’t hold up his end of the bargain,” he explained, “Either way, I don’t think the legitimacy of whether or not a bunch of barely-legal mutants who don’t even have licenses own the car they drive really matters in this situation.”

“...Fair point,” Splinter admitted before flattening his ears slightly, “Still, I can’t help but feel like I should be a better influence on you kids...”

The softshell laughed again, leaning up against his dad. “I think it’s a bit too late for that, Pop… but I’d also say that you’re still doing a decent job at the whole ‘role model’ thing anyway so... yeah. Thanks for that.”

Splinter chuckled back. Maybe he was doing more right than he originally thought. “If you say so… and thank you too.”

The two sat there for a bit longer while Donnie finished up his apples. By the time his plate was cleaned, he was yawning. Even if the talk between them had helped a lot, Donnie still felt emotionally exhausted - which was another thing his father could relate to.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave you alone,” Splinter joked, grunting a bit as he tried to squirm his way out of the bed without accidentally kicking or scratching his son. Once free, he turned back to face Donnie, who was already lying back down. “Do you want me to tell your brothers that it is okay to visit later, or do you still need more alone time?”

Donnie hummed, thinking it over. “I still want my nap but… yeah, I think I’ll be okay with it later on.” Pausing, he then sheepishly added, “There’s a slight chance that I’ll want to wake up for supper anyway.”

Splinter nodded, making a mental note to order-in that night (if there was one type of comfort food better than homemade soup, it was takeout). “Well, I guess we’ll see you then.”

Donnie smiled. As passive as that statement seemed on the surface, he could still sense the love within the words - something that was more than familiar when it came to their dad. The fact that Splinter took the time to casually tuck him in and pat his head before leaving just added to this.

“Alright, sleep well,” Splinter told him as he headed towards the doorway.

“Mm,” Donnie nodded, eyes already closed as his calmed mind began drifting towards sleep, “Yeah… Love you, Papa.” The reply had been so quiet that if it weren’t for Splinter’s rat ears, he might not have even heard it.

But he had heard it, and it made him smile regardless. “Heh, I love you too, Purple.”

**THE END**


	2. BONUS CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I never meant for this story to be a twoshot. I was just writing out some dialogue that I liked, and then the more I wrote the more personal it got, and then it turned into a sort of continuation/epilogue for this fic, lol. So yeah, hope you all enjoy this second piece of vent writing and brotherly banter.

Donnie sighed to himself, rubbing his eyes for what seemed like the sixth or seventh time that evening. The headache steadily growing behind his forehead had screwed up his focus enough that he’d had to put on his old glasses, relieving himself of his contacts.

Unfortunately, not even that could provide much relief, and he still found his mind wandering, his slightly-blurred gaze unable to stay glued to the assortment of wires and circuits he was currently working on (and making very, VERY little progress on).

An alarm on the far side of his lab suddenly went off. _“Break time, dude,”_ S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. said, the former-drone’s AI being as sharp (and pushy) as ever despite still being currently stuck in Donnie’s computer. A subtle reminder of what Donnie was _supposed_ to be doing…

“Activate snooze,” Donnie politely ordered, putting his glasses back on as he picked up the tool he had been using.

 _“No can do, bruh,”_ S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. replied, _“We both know what Gramps and R-Dawg said, you’re only allowed to activate snooze twice. So you gotta get up or I’m gonna start blasting polka music until you do.”_

“Siiiiiiiigh…” Despite his drone not currently having a face, Donnie still turned towards the monitor to give him a flat look, “I would have thought that considering my current project is for your benefit - and also the fact that I’m, you know, your creator - that you would be able to ignore conflicting orders that weren’t from me.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. just chuckled. _“You can’t build me a cool bod if you’re dead from sleep deprivation, dude. And just ‘cause you’re my creator doesn’t mean I’m gonna always listen to you - not when it’s much funner to mess with you.”_

“You know very well ‘funner’ isn’t a word.”

_“Polka playlist download is at 47%.”_

“I’m going, I’m going.” Standing up, Donnie cracked his back, actually relieved that he had temporarily traded in his battle shell for a fluffy purple snuggie, even if he did miss having the extra arms that could get him spare pencils or tools without him needing to leave his desk. “I swear one of these days I’m gonna patch out your sass.”

 _“Not if I patch you out first, bro,”_ S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. lightly threatened, which Donnie just rolled his eyes at. 

Neither one of them were serious, and they both knew it. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hadn’t shown any murderous tendencies since being put into his 2.0 body several months ago, and if Donnie had really wanted him to be a completely emotionless and obedient drone, he would’ve wiped his personality long ago and wouldn’t have bothered holding onto several different back-ups of his AI. Besides, what was family if you couldn’t have snarky banter with them? 

Yawning a bit, Donnie drifted out towards the atrium of their new home, his legs moving at a slow and steady pace. He took out his phone, and was annoyed to be reminded of the time - and the fact that his best friend was no doubt already fast asleep. Not knowing where to go for his forced-upon break or how to spend it, he allowed his eyes to wander as he leaned against the lab’s doorway.

Even after two months, a part of him still paused at the lack of moat or skylight, although the fairy lights, assorted sports and skateboarding equipment, and growing collection of wall art made it feel a bit more at home… A different yet comfortable sort of status quo that would always feel just a tiny bit off.

A quiet “Oh!” brought Donnie’s attention to the entry pipe of their home, where Mikey was now standing. He was in his chef’s uniform, his dark orange jacket hung over his shoulder and a plastic bag in his hand. That’s right, Donnie reminded himself, Mikey had a shift at Run of the Mill that night. “You still up, Dee?”

“Obviously,” Donnie replied. He casually jumped down to the lower level so he could properly greet his brother. “How was work?”

“Eh, pretty alright. Had a rush of people at the end there, but it still wasn’t too bad. And-” Mikey held up the bag- “We had some leftover breadsticks that I was allowed to bring home! You want a couple? They’re kinda cold and I don’t have any marinara to go with them but I mean, they’re still good and all soooo…”

Donnie thought about it for a moment. “...Well, they’re about as good of a midnight snack as anything else.” Mikey smiled at his answer, and together they walked to the kitchen.

Once they were sitting, Mikey continued telling Donnie about his shift that night - all the food he had made, the customers he briefly met whenever he had to move from the kitchen to the dining room, and the interactions he had with his boss and co-workers. While Donnie didn’t comment much, focusing more on eating, he still made sure to listen and speak up occasionally.

Even so, it didn’t take long for Mikey to decide that it was his purple brother’s turn to speak. “So, how’s your night going? Still working on SHELLDON’s new body?”

“Yep,” Donnie sighed, slumping forward in his seat a bit, “I’ve got the exterior pretty much finished…” There would always be additions and upgrades to add, especially if he wanted to make it a TRUE upgrade that could be just impressive as his 2.0 body if not better, but the simple body itself was finished enough for S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to walk and fly around in it at the very least. 

“It’s just the inner components - the inner wiring and circuitry - that I still have to finish. Aaaand of course, they’re the thing I’m having the hardest time focusing on… I just- I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

Mikey gave him a soft smile as he reached over and patted his shoulder. “You got this, Dee. I know you do… and even if somethin’ does go wrong, I know you’ll fix that too.”

Donnie managed a small smile back. “Thanks for the encouragement, ‘Angelo… I know I could probably fix any problems later but- but those problems still present a risk… Even if I do have his memories and personality backed up, I don’t exactly want to put SHELLDON through the experience of overheating or risk file corruption if something goes _really_ wrong…”

For a moment, Donnie was expecting Mikey to offer more positive encouragement and assurance. But instead, Mikey just nodded back at the softshell. “Yeah, I totally get that.”

Donnie raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

“It isn’t exactly easy to take back a brush stroke or an extra dash of spice,” Mikey told him, shrugging slightly, “And even if I know mistakes like that aren’t THAT big of a deal in the long run, there are still days where they can feel like the worst things ever - ‘specially if I’m on the clock. And with this and… everything that’s happened, I definitely understand the extra pressure.”

“Right…” Donnie looked down again, lightly tapping his half-eaten breadstick against the styrofoam packaging. “...Considering how many times he’s gotten - or nearly gotten - himself seriously damaged, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d miss flying around too much, I’d probably just leave him in the computer,” he said honestly.

“Mmmm, nah,” a new voice said before Mikey could reply, “You’d keep him in there for a couple weeks, a month tops, but you’d bring him out eventually.”

As his expression flattened, Donnie looked over his shoulder at his twin. Leo just smirked back, knowing he was right. Rather than acknowledge this, Donnie simply said, “I thought you were asleep.” His blue brother’s usual pajamas and eye mask were evidence at that.

“Eh, more like half-asleep. I was thinking about making some tea when I smelled breadsticks, buuut this is more interesting.” Without even waiting for an invite, Leo strolled over and plopped himself down in-between his brothers, grabbing one of the remaining breadsticks. “So, what’s got you so protective all of a sudden, Papa Don?”

 _“Stop,”_ Donnie warned, his scowl deepening at the nickname.

“He’s not wrong, you definitely have dad vibes when it comes to SHELLDON,” Mikey spoke up, earning his own glare from Donnie and a few snickers from Leo. “Not that I blame you, but-”

“I’m not being ‘overly protective’,” Donnie interrupted, his scowl deepening, “I’m just being cautious! Is that such a crime?!”

“...No, but it is sorta against your usual MO,” Leo gently countered, his tone a bit softer now, “Especially since you’re the guy who usually focuses on preparing for the worst instead of trying to avoid it. Nothing wrong with it if that’s how you feel but, if you need to talk about it...”

“...” Again, Donnie glanced away, shrinking down a bit in his seat. He should’ve known their late night talk would end up focusing on discussing ‘feelings’. It had only been about a week since his talk with his father, and though he was no longer holding himself in his room, he wasn’t exactly back to ‘business as usual’ either.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N’s body was the only project he had any interest in working on, and even that was only because of the personal reasons behind it. He had caught S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. with drone racing videos on the monitor more times than he could remember; Donnie knew how much he wanted to be out of that computer.

So, Donnie had pushed himself, not caring whether or not he felt ‘up to’ doing any work or whether or not he was still mourning his Turtle Tank and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. 2.0 and all of the other tech that he had lost over the full span of the Shredder’s rampage. 

He pushed himself to invent and build and create not just for himself but for the sake of his family’s safety and for the benefit of those he cared about, even if they didn’t directly ask him to do so. Because that was just what he did. Because what else _could_ he do?

Donnie flinched slightly when he suddenly felt a large hand gently touch the back of his shell, but just as quickly relaxed, knowing exactly who it was. “It’s great that you wanna help him but, Shelly will understand if it takes you a bit longer this time around to make him a new body.”

“Yeah, I know…” Donnie muttered, subtly leaning towards his big brother, “Still don’t really want to make him wait though… I’m already annoyed with waiting on myself.”

“Donnie,” Mikey began, his voice already sorta slipping into ‘Dr. Feelings’ mode, but again Donnie interrupted.

“I’m not trying to force myself to get back to work,” he insisted, “I mean, not entirely. I really do want to get back to inventing and doing science, no matter what eventually happens to my projects. I _like_ inventing, the good and the bad side of it! I just. Can’t. FOCUS!”

With that, Donnie finally let himself lean all the way over, his head now face down on the table. He gave a muffled groan at being unable to deny his true frustrations any longer. He could deal with feeling sad and angry at the loss of all his hard work. Splinter had helped plenty with that, and he was sure his siblings would help too if he needed them to.

But feeling totally unfocused and unmotivated despite his own desires? Feeling like he was washed up at only fourteen years and ten months old? That was a completely different beast entirely, and he had no idea how to conquer it. He had never felt this- this _stuck_ in his entire life, not even during his worst periods of inventor’s block. At least then he knew the issue was a lack of ideas or projects. He HAD the ideas and projects, plenty of them. He just didn’t want to actually work on them.

As he continued sitting face down, Donnie felt his siblings surround him, offering more pats and hugs that although he didn’t return, he didn’t stiffen up at the gestures of comfort either. When words seemed hollow or would just bounce off his brain, those brotherly gestures felt all the more weighted…

“...Well,” Leo began to say after a few minutes of family cuddling had passed, “I think we’ve covered the ‘comfort’ part pretty well. As for what to do next - do you want to be distracted or do you want advice?”

Donnie grumbled something incoherent as he thought it over. He was already technically taking a break, and putting on one of his favorite Lou Jitsu or Jupiter Jim comfort films certainly sounded appealing. But that was only a temporary solution, and Donnie never did anything half-shelled. 

“Advice, please,” he said finally, lifting his head up slightly.

“Cool. So…” Leo looked at Raph and Mikey, “Either of you got any advice you can give?” Donnie’s head went back on the table. “I’m _kidding!_ Kidding, just a joke, we definitely have advice!”

Donnie huffed. “You need a new coping mechanism.”

“And you need to beat your coffee addiction one of these days, but we both know that neither of those things are gonna happen,” Leo quipped, wrapping an arm around Donnie’s shell, “But okay. Serious advice time, I promise.” 

His purple twin gave him one last warning look before allowing him to proceed. “Okay so, as much as I know you aren’t gonna want to hear it, I think a vacation would do you some good,” Leo continued, “And I don’t mean just sleeping or sitting in front of the TV or computer for a week. That stuff’s great, but I don’t think it’s what you need. I mean like a vacation where you’re doing _other_ stuff that you like to do.”

“Exactly!” Raph nodded. As obnoxious as Leo could be when he was right, Raph couldn’t help but agree. “Sometimes when you’re hittin’ the wall, you just gotta find a way around it and enjoy what’s behind it before comin’ back and breaking it down.”

His younger brothers stared at him for a moment. “That was… actually kind of profound,” Donnie told him.

“Yeah! Nice metaphor work, Raph!” Mikey grinned, offering his red brother a high-three.

“Heh, thanks!” Raph smiled back, taking the high-three, “But yeah, there’s a reason why I do stuff that’s completely different from workin’ out whenever I start feeling like I’m in a rut. I mean, I don’t really know HOW to explain it but it’s like, when I’m struggling with a move or an exercise, sometimes just taking some time to do a long knitting craft or go topside for a while helps me focus on the stuff I’m struggling with later on. I guess it sorta clears my head, but it’s also just enjoyable on it’s own.”

“Totally. Plus, you would not be- _lieve_ how inspiring a change of scenery would be,” Mikey added, “I’m always taking walks whenever I’m really struggling with an art idea or a dish. Heck, I could be not in the mood to cook somethin’ when I’m here at home, but then I’m in the kitchen at Run of the Mill, and suddenly cooking is all I can think about - and not just ‘cause it’s literally my job while I’m there.”

“Heh, well… What exactly would this ‘vacation’ entail?” Donnie asked, a bit curious.

“Like I said, whatever you want!” Leo told him, “As long as it’s fun and not forcing yourself to invent-” Or thinking about how he couldn’t invent, Donnie silently added, which would be easier said than done he was sure. “-you can go out and do whatever!”

“And you wouldn’t have to do it alone if you didn’t want to,” Raph added, “If you wanted company, we'd join in and do stuff with you, and you know that April’s always down for whatever, so she’d probably be there too.”

“Yeah! Or you could do things by yourself, it’s completely up to you and that’s the best part about it!” Mikey grinned, “So… You interested?”

Donnie, much to his surprise, was definitely interested. While he may have enjoyed many of their group activities, it wasn’t often that he had the opportunity to choose what they all did, much less pick things that he preferred specifically. 

His brain was already coming up with ideas: A day trip to the Mystic Library that promised at least an afternoon’s worth of reading, sneaking into one or two of the latest shows on Broadway, having a karaoke night or a video game night, going scavenging at NYC’s finest junkyards and shopping for new outfits at their favorite thrift stores - the possibilities really were endless!

...Still, there was one lingering ‘worst case scenario’ thought amongst them all. “What if it doesn’t work?” Donnie asked quietly, “What if I clear my head, take some time… and I still can’t invent anything, no matter how badly I want to?” What if his ‘vacation’ was just another way of putting off denying it? What if, after everything he had achieved, he never made anything worthwhile again?

 _“Oh come on, dude,”_ they heard S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. suddenly say, catching all of them off-guard, _“Of course you’re gonna invent again! You’re Donatello, self-proclaimed inventor extraordinaire and mega-ultra nerd! You’d go crazy if you couldn’t do science, and even MORE crazy if you couldn’t invent.”_

Donnie was about to question how S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was speaking with them in the kitchen when he noticed the microwave glowing slightly, its inner light purple now instead of yellow. 

“...Right.” He facepalmed. “Why do I always forget your external connections?” Even without a proper body, given his original function as a smart-lair helper, of course he’d still have connections to the rest of their home. “Still, I feel like I can make a reasonable argument for this still counting as eavesdropping, SHELLDON.”

The AI scoffed. _“Tc’ch,*eyeroll*. If the rest of the fam can be part of the conversation, why can’t I?”_

He did have a point, and judging by their hums and nods, his brothers seemed to agree. “Fine,” Donnie conceded, “You have the floor, SHELLDON.”

 _“_ _Thank_ _you,”_ S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. replied. Donnie could almost hear the smirk in his former drone’s tone. _“Anyway, you shouldn’t worry about your inventions ‘n stuff, alright? I don’t mind waiting, really.”_

Donnie couldn’t help but wince a bit. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. might not have minded, but Donnie did. But then again, maybe that was part of the problem. Too much pushing and forcing, like stubbornly trying to force a certain screw into place only to end up totally stripping it.

“ _Annoyed grumble_ … I know you’re all right. It’s just hard to actually accept it without a guarantee…”

“Well then, we’ll just come up with a back-up plan!” Raph insisted, striking a bit of a confident pose, “If the vacation doesn’t work, then we’ll just try something else!”

“Yeah! If you want to still be an inventor, Dee, then we’ll do whatever it takes to help you get your mad scientist mojo back!” Mikey enthusiastically agreed.

“Like we said,” Leo finished, smirking as he gave his arm a bit of a nudge, “We’ve got your back, bro.”

Donnie chuckled. “I think that much is obvious,” he said, and though his words were snarky, the soft smile on his face was completely genuine. Rubbing his eyes, he let out another sigh. “Alright… I suppose I’ll give it a try, at least. Not like I have much of a choice.”

“That’s the spirit!” Raph told him, “So you start comin’ up with stuff you wanna do!” Though, after a moment, he added in typical big bro fashion, “Though, you should definitely get some sleep first. You look really tired.”

 _“He hasn’t slept in 15 hours and 48 minutes,”_ S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shared.

“Hmph, snitch,” Donnie said, though there wasn’t any bite to it and the AI didn’t take any offense to it, judging by his chuckles. “Fine, fine. Let me finish my snack and then I’ll hit the metaphorical hay.” 

He picked up the remaining half of his breadstick and, without thinking, stuck it in his mouth, tilted his head up and swallowed it whole as if it were a fish. It wasn’t an eating maneuver he did too often, but he wasn’t about to stop himself from doing it either.

Leo and Raph immediately gave him a grimaced and tired look. “Donnie, we talked about this,” his twin reminded him, “You have teeth. _Use them_.”

“Mm, nope. Too tired to care,” Donnie stated bluntly.

“And too tired to not be weird apparently.”

“A) I can’t help my softshell biology, Leon, do not judge me. And B) _Scoff._ It’s perfectly natural, hence my biology point. Also useful.”

“Heh, yeah. Useful and weird.”

“But in a cool way,” Mikey mildly argued, “Kinda wish I could do that too sometimes.” When Leo turned his look onto their youngest brother, Mikey just shrugged him off. “What? Sometimes I don’t feel like chewing.”

“Yes, THANK you, Michael! See, he gets it!”

“Or maybe you’re just both weirdos,” Leo countered, sticking his tongue out a bit.

Shaking his head at the conversation, Raph then turned his attention back to Donnie. “Look, just try to keep chewing in mind, okay? We don’t want you choking or somethin’.”

“Unlikely, but fine.” Donnie then added with a mumble. “At the very least, I’ve never eaten salami off the floor...”

“Okay, that was one time! ONE. TIME! An’ none of you guys have ever let me live it down!” Raph shouted, huffing at Leo and Mikey’s snickers, “Whatever, respect the five second rule!”

“Boooys,” their father called from across the lair, “I do not mind if you want to stay up, but maybe try to keep the shouting to a minimum?”

“Ah, I was wondering if Dad was going to make a cameo,” Donnie quietly commented while Raph winced a bit at the mild scolding.

“Right, don’t worry, pop! We were just about to head to bed!” the snapper shouted back.

“Wait no I still need to make my sleepytime tea-!” Mikey laughed as Leo scrambled over to the stove while Donnie just rolled his eyes. Still, tea did sound nice - and lucky for all of them, they had just enough for four cups.

Several minutes later, as Donnie was walking toward his bedroom, he found himself slowing down as he passed the entrance to his lap. Gripping his mug a bit, he carefully poked his head in, minding the purple curtains. “...SHELLDON?”

It only took a moment for the monitor placed towards the back-left of his lab to blip out of sleep mode. _“Yeah, dude?”_

Donnie hesitated for just a moment before asking, “Are you sure you don’t mind waiting?”

This time, the wait for a response was longer. Not by more than a few seconds, but enough for Donnie to nearly worry. Thankfully, his creation’s reply was to the point. 

_“Donnie, you could’ve kept me on that flash drive until my new body was built. You could’ve literally kept me in the dark for as long as you wanted, s’not like I would’ve known the difference. But you didn’t. You plugged me in and woke me up instead of leaving me out of everything, or worse... Even if I couldn’t walk around or anything, you still brought me back and made sure I was okay.”_ He could hear the smile in his former drone’s voice now. _“You didn’t make me wait, so I can choose to wait now, okay? Now go to bed already, nerd, before you pass out AGAIN.”_

Donnie chuckled, his eyes a bit misty. “...Get some good rest, okay bud?”

 _“Will do, bro. Same to you.”_ With that, Donnie left his lab. He finished off his tea on his way to his room and set the mug on the floor as he climbed up into his bed, the idea of sleeping no longer being something he was reluctant to do. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but it wasn’t a waste either.

He would have to try and remember that, both now and long after whenever he managed to get past his mental block. But even if he did forget, he knew that he still had plenty of people in his life to remind him of it, and that was still a pretty good guarantee.

**THE END**


End file.
